


Most Valuable Pants 2013

by 1TakeJohnny



Category: Real Person Fiction, That Guy with the Glasses/Channel Awesome, The Protomen, The Real Basement Dwellers
Genre: Gen, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1TakeJohnny/pseuds/1TakeJohnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ThePseudonym doesn't always lose his pants at MAGFest, but when he does it is in the most epic way possible. </p>
<p>The main characters in this story are the hosts of The Real Basement Dwellers podcast, part of the d20 Radio Network. They can be found at WillWork4Money.net.  </p>
<p>The story also features cameos from Angry Video Game Nerd, Nostalgia Chick, BFF Nella, Elisa Hanzen, and The Protomen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Valuable Pants 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This is the winning entry in the Real Basement Dwellers podcast's "Where Are My Pants?!" Contest, where listeners offered up exciting alternate explanations for how host ThePseudonym managed to lose a pair of pants at MAGFest 2013.

**PROLOGUE**

 

“What am I going to do with you, little game?” Ashley mused, her brow knitting as she twirled the flash drive between her fingers, “How can I get you to MAGFest safely?” Ordinarily she would toss the tiny stick of metal and plastic into her purse without so much as a second thought, but this was no ordinary flash drive. It was the only physical copy of Chain World, one of the rarest video games in existence and the subject of many a whispered tale among the geek and gamer communities. _Chain World_ was a sandbox fantasy simulation game designed to be played only once by each person who comes across it, and then to be passed by hand to the next worthy player. All who receive it were sworn to secrecy, and must never reveal the details of their playing experience - even within the game itself. Some have threatened to kill for it, others to die for it, and Ashley never did say how she came into possession of it, but possess it she did, and the time had come for her to hand it off to another worthy player.

Walking past the overflowing pile of dirty scrubs spilling from her hamper, edging around her sewing machine, and carefully tiptoeing through the nest of plush stuffed dragons that surrounded her bed, Ashley picked up her phone, closed her eyes, and blindly pressed until she heard it begin to ring. A groggy, raspy, monstrous voice croaked from the other end of the line, “... hullo?”

“Drakaunus!” Ashley replied cheerily. “My blind dialing was a complete success.  Oof, sounds like you had quite a night last night. Did you make all the ladies fall desperately in love with you?”

A slow, lazy wave of unintelligible grumbling rolls into Ashley’s ear, followed by a low thump.”But that’s not why you called, is it?”

“Of course not, Drakaunus!” Ashley answered with a casualness that made her apathy sound almost sincere, “But remember to text me if you ever want to throw one or two of them my way.”

It took nearly all of Drakaunus’s strength to raise his eyebrow, but he felt it was well worth the effort. “Won’t your fiance have something to say about that?”

Honest confusion fell upon Ashley for the briefest of moments, until she remembered that she was not, in fact, a lesbian. “Oh, right! Of COURSE! We’ll have to find some sort of diversion to distract him. One that doesn’t involve more ladies, because I’ll cut those bitches’ hands off if they try to touch him.”

“You’re a weird lady, Ashley,” Drakaunus responded, exhausted and exasperated, “So why DID you call?”

“Well, let’s say, *hypothetically*, that I had gotten my hands on one of the rarest video games ever made. And *hypothetically*, I want to find the best person to pass the game on to at MAGFest this weekend. And *still hypothetically*, I didn’t want to risk putting it in my luggage when I fly there, or shipping it to myself. What would be the best *hypothetical* way to make sure it gets there safe?” Ashley had nearly dropped the phone when making air quotes with her fingers, but she was confident that they helped make her point.

Eyebrow still raised, Chris replied, “Well, in that highly unlikely *hypothetical* situation, I’d say just give it to ThePseudonym. He’s stopping off at your place in a little while to pick up his costume, isn’t he?”

Ashley checked her clock, then glanced at the cerulean suit still lying next to her sewing machine. “Good point, Drakaunus! I forgot that he was driving down today. I’ll send it off with him today, and get it back when I fly down Saturday.”

“Sounds good to me. So anyway, as I was saying about last night...”

Ashley removed the phone from her ear. “Sorry, Drakaunus, but your usefulness to me is at an end. Farewell!” With a click, Ashley left Drakaunus to return to his no-longer-drunken stupor.

The clock mercilessly continued its march toward eleven, when ThePseudonym would be arriving to pick up his costume. “If I just *hand* it to him,” she thought, “he’ll try to take it for himself. Much as I love ‘im, he’s probably not the most worthy person at MAGFest to give this to.” Suddenly, Ashley was inspired. She flew to the sewing machine, spurred on by a mission and a deucedly clever idea. “He’ll never even know it’s there...”

  
  


**OUR STORY BEGINS**

DING DONG!

The doorbell chimed in front of Ashley’s house, signaling that ThePseudonym had arrived to collect his costume. For several minutes he waited on the front steps, clad in his signature fedora and mask. They looked a bit silly when paired with jeans and a hoodie, but soon all of the pieces would fall into the place and the one _true_ ThePseudonym would be ready to take MAGFest by storm. “They have no idea what they’re in for,” he said aloud, affecting a slightly gruffer voice.

Presently, Ashley appeared in the doorway carrying a garment bag. “Here you go, one freshly-altered crimefighting uniform,” she said as she handed it gingerly to ThePseudonym, “Just don’t use the back pockets, and be careful not to stretch the seat. I had to re-do the stitching back there once already. In fact, stop by my room tomorrow around 10 and I’ll be able to touch it up for you.”

“Thanks, Ash, but I’m sure it’ll be fine,” ThePseudonym assured her, “I won’t bother you to do more work on it while you’re at the con.”

“No, I INSIST. Come by my room at 10 sharp tomorrow. It’s IMPORTANT. Understand?”    

Ashley’s eyes were wide with conviction, and ThePseudonym nodded helplessly. With another hasty offering of gratitude, he whirled and headed back to his car. With the push of a button, the PseudonyMobile roared to life, and he embarked on his journey to MAGFest.

 

***  *  ***

 

BREEEEEEP!  BREEEEEEP!  BREEEEEEEP!

ThePseudonym’s phone screamed to life on the nightstand next to his hotel bed. With a practiced - if not altogether graceful - motion, he slammed his hand down on it to cease its infernal beeping. Still wearing his costume from the night before, he stumbled out of bed, rushed through his bathroom routine, and snatched up his jeans from the floor as he exited the room. He nearly crashed headlong into the hallway wall as he struggled to regain his balance, and the harsh mid-morning light streaming in from the windows pierced directly into his brain.  “OwwwWwwwwWww,” he grumbled, inching his way toward the lobby.

The hotel was positively crawling with geeks and gamers of all stripes, even at breakfast-time. Plenty had just arrived, but even more looked like they hadn’t slept at all. ThePseudonym passed a pile of barely-awake _Talisman_ players, still Hell-bent on finishing their game after what appeared to be a dozen hours of play.   He crossed through the lobby to the other side of the hotel, toward Ashley’s room.

As he reached the far side elevator, ThePseudonym’s ears began ringing loudly and painfully. Rapidly throwing his fingers in both ears to dull the pain, he was only dimly aware of how crowded the elevator was as he stepped in. Packed nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, ThePseudonym was forced to drop his arms to his sides to fit in alongside a cadre of cosplayers. He regretted this instantly, as the cosplayers began to dance and chant, “ELEVATOR PARTY! ELEVATOR PARTY! ELEVATOR PARTY!” at the top of their lungs.

Despite his current physical state, ThePseudonym made a token effort to dance along with the Zangief and Marceline cosplayers currently sandwiching him. He hoped that if he played along, they’d finish their chant and go annoy someone else. He prayed to Andrew W.K. that these so-called partiers would be struck down for being so insufferably annoying, but neither prayers nor cell phone calls could escape the elevator shaft.

After what must have been three eternities, ThePseudonym was finally able to push his way out of the elevator and into the hallway leading to Ashley’s room. It only took one knock before she whipped open the door and shouted,  “WHERE. HAVE. YOU. BEEN?!”

ThePseudonym put his hands up as though he were being threatened at gunpoint. He did his best to calm his enraged friend, who was now dressed in her homemade Sexy Starscream costume. “Jeez, Ashley, I’m sorry! I’ve got a splitting headache, and those god-damn Elevator Party kids wouldn’t let me out for fifteen minutes!”  

“Shut up,” Ashley demanded, setting down her prop null-ray. “I don’t even care anymore.” She brandished a frightening-looking curved knife that looked like it had been yanked directly from the cover of a Dungeons and Dragons novel.  “Now turn around and bend over.”

ThePseudonym’s eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. “WHAT?! You can’t be serious! Look, I brought my jeans, ok? Just give me a second to change into them.”

“Nuh-uh, NO WAY.  You’ve already wasted my time. Don’t you DARE ruin my fun now,” Ashley insisted, “Now, seriously, stop squirming. It *probably* won’t hurt at all!”

ThePseudonym was already scrambling for the door as fast as he could, but Ashley’s words made him move even faster. Thankfully her wings and cape were bulky enough that she had to work to get them through the doorway, which gave him enough time to reach the stairwell before her.

Running on pure terror-borne adrenaline, ThePseudonym tore through the halls of the hotel and into MAGFest proper, stopping only when he felt he had gained enough of a lead on his deranged friend to catch his breath. He ducked into the nearest panel room and quickly took a seat near the back, doing his best not to pant loudly. It was a Minecraft panel, and the moderator was recounting the story of how Mojang came up with the game’s concept. After a few minutes, ThePseudonym began to doze off. Before he knew it, the lecture was over and the moderator had begun to answer questions from the audience.  

Still reeling from the events of the last few minutes, ThePseudonym took a moment to pop in his bluetooth headset and dial Drakaunus. “‘Mornin’, Sunshine,” Drakaunus greeted him in a faux Southern accent.

“Drakaunus, listen to me, you’re not gonna believe this. Ashley just tried to murder me in her hotel room! She threatened to stab me with this HUGE effing knife!” ThePseudonym struggled to keep himself calm.

“Are you sure you’re not overreacting?” Drakaunus asked. “Ashley’s crazy, but I’m pretty sure she’d never kill a friend without a good reason.”

ThePseudonym replayed the event in his mind, trying to make sense of it. Nothing about it seemed to make any kind of sense! Ashley had never cared this much about lateness before, nor had she ever been so quick to anger.

Suddenly, Ashley burst in from the other side of the room. She locked eyes on ThePseudonym instantly, but didn’t head directly for him. Instead, she shoved the next person in line to the side and shouted into the microphone, “Hey, Everybody! I need your help! See that guy in the blue suit in the corner there? He stole the only copy of _Chain World_ from me! It’s in his pants RIGHT NOW!  Get him! GET THOSE PANTS!”

Time began to slow down for ThePseudonym, yet he still did not have enough to react before the entire room directed its attention at him. he pushed his chair away and rose to his feet, backing toward the door, just as the first attendee began to point and yell, “paaAAAAAAANTS!”  Suddenly the flow of time snapped back to full speed, and wave after wave of cries of “paaAAAAAAANTS!” began erupting from the crowd as they all clamored to their feet and started after him. Without a second’s further hesitation, ThePseudonym bolted for the door.

 

The chase was on. his legs screaming in pain, pulse throbbing in his ears, ThePseudonym raced through the MAGFest halls into the dealer’s room, ducking and weaving through the foot traffic, attempting to lose himself in the crowd. He narrowly avoided tripping over an adorable toddler dressed as dalek, throwing himself through the aisle and under a table in the process. When he recovered, he found himself directly underneath the Utilikilt vendor’s rack, and saw an imposingly large bearded gentleman in a leather UtiliKilt staring down at him. “Help you with anything, sir?” the man asked dryly.

“Sorry about this, Mr. Utilikilt Vendor,” ThePseudonym began, “but it’s been kind of a crazy day … Say, could you throw me one of those black kilts in a size 40?”

The vendor picked up a kilt from the rack, and prepared to hand it to ThePseudonym. “That’ll be $150, sir. Cash or credit?”

“ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY? All right, fine. Put it on my …” ThePseudonym trailed off as he reached into his pocket. He realized that he had left his wallet in his jeans, which were still in Ashley’s room. “OK, I don’t have my card with me right now. Can I leave something with you until I can go back to my room and get my cash?”

The vendor frowned through his mighty beard, “Sorry, sir. We do not accept collateral. Feel free to come back when you have cash or credit.”

“But the reason I need a kilt in the first place is so that I can go get my cash in peace. There’s a horde of angry attendees out there who are trying to steal my pants!” ThePseudonym exclaimed in frustration.

The vendor’s expression softened slightly, a look of recognition dawning on his face. “Oh hey, you’re the pants guy! I just heard something about you, let me check what it was.” He produced an iPhone from his kilt pocket and swiped through his notifications. Presently, he replaced the iPhone in the pocket and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Everybody!” he bellowed, “The pants guy is right here, at the utilikilt booth!  PaaAAAAAAANTS!”

Stunned and betrayed, but with no time to react, ThePseudonym struggled to his feet. Attendees were already starting to turn and stare at him, and he knew he had only a few seconds before they would be upon him. He ran a few stalls ahead, then banked sharply to the left, bringing his fist down with all his might on the nearby dice vendor’s table. In a moment that ThePseudonym would have found beautiful any other time, a thousand shining and sparkling polyhedrons soared through the air, then tumbled to the ground with a resounding clatter. The first few attendees to reach them slipped and went crashing to the ground. Before they could get to their feet, a second wave of geeks pounced on top of them, scrambling to scoop up as many dice as they could stuff into their pockets. In the commotion, ThePseudonym was able to slip away and exit the dealer’s room, then disappear into a nearby fire stairwell.

An eerie red glow lit the stairwell, as the fire panels and exit signs strained to compensate for the lack of working light fixtures. ThePseudonym, still adjusting to the dark, bowled into one of the three shadowy figures standing near the stairs. He collided with the middle figure and barely managed to grasp the railing to keep from tumbling ass-over-teakettle, but something clattered down to the flight below. “Ow! Watch where you’re going, you oaf!” a woman’s voice blurted out.

Chagrined, ThePseudonym recovered himself and then helped the woman to her feet. “Ohmygosh I am SO SORRY, miss!  I was running and I couldn’t stop, and everything is so dark in here, and …” His eyes adjust to the light, and ThePseudonym was shocked to find himself face-to-face with a young lady roughly his age, clad in a black Adventure Time T-shirt.”Hey, waitaminute! I know you! You’re BFF Nella!” He exclaimed.

 Nella’s expression soured. “Yup, that’s me, internet celebrity-by-proxy. I have no idea who you are, though, because you knocked my glasses off and now I can’t see a goddamn thing. Hey girls, did either of you see where they went?”

“You lost your glasses?” a nearby voice gasped. ThePseudonym looked over and saw the remaining two figures, no longer masked by shadows, exchange a look of stark terror. Suddenly the shorter of the two moved swiftly into action.  "Lisa, you know what this means. We can’t let Dark Nella take control again! Go see if they fell down the stairs.  I'll make sure that she doesn't lose control here." she ordered her friend as she yanked her iPad hastily from her shoulder bag, “Go! NOW!”

Elisa, who ThePseudonym recognized as her internet video persona Maven of the Eventide, pushed past him as she raced down the stairs. ThePseudonym awkwardly shuffled back toward the door, where the leader of the group seemed to be desperately searching Tumblr on the iPad she had produced. Even without her signature pigtails and bowtie, he recognized her as Lindsay Ellis, creator and star of the Nostalgia Chick web series. “W-wow,” he stammered, “i-i-it’s really an honor to meet you all. I’m a huge fan of your work, and I can’t apologize enough for …”

Without shifting her gaze from the iPad, Lindsay shot a finger up and pointed it at ThePseudonym in a halting gesture. “NOT. NOW.” She searched for another few seconds, then looked up from the tablet and returned to her friend’s side. “Everything allright, Nella? Do you feel okay?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m fine, Lindsay. It was just a shove, that’s all. And I’ll be able to see again as soon as we find my …Hey, I can see you! That’s weird.” Nella blinked several times in rapid succession, and looked at her friend in confusion. Suddenly, the air in the stairwell began to feel charged, as though a bolt of lightning was about to strike. “Now that you mention it, Lindsay, I do feel kind of,” Nella’s voice dropped a register as she turned a malevolent gaze toward her friend, “... different. In fact, I feel incredible! Powerful! **Like I could devour an entire galaxy!** ”

Lindsay blanched and her eyes widened. Nervously, she thrust the iPad directly into Nella’s view and said, “Nella! Isn’t this the cutest puppy ever?”  ThePseudonym could see that the tablet was displaying a full-screen video of a corgi dressed in a long multi-colored scarf, next to a blue doghouse.  

Instantly Nella’s features softened, and she let out a rapturous squeal.  “EEEEEE!!! He’s got a 4th Doctor scarf!  That little corgi is going to run back to the TARDIS with my heart in his teeth!” Her undivided attention was directed at the little dog on the screen, to the point that Nella did not notice Elisa sneaking up behind her, the formerly-missing glasses in her hand. With a single deft motion, Elisa surreptitiously placed the glasses back on her friend’s face.

The electrical charge in the room dissipated, and both Lindsay and Elisa breathed heavy sighs of relief. “That was TOO close,” Elisa insisted.

Lindsay nodded in strong agreement. She turned and addressed ThePseudonym, “Listen, guy. I don’t think you know how much danger you just put us, yourself, and everyone in this hotel in. We’re all DAMN lucky you didn’t cause Nella to revert back to being a quasi-demonic intergalactic force of evil.”  

Shocked and confused, ThePseudonym attempted to explain his actions. “Jeez, I had no idea! I was just trying to find somewhere safe to hide from my crazy friend and all the Minecraft fans who are trying to get me. I never thought I’d have to dodge so many people who were all trying to get my pants off!”

In unison, all three women rolled their eyes and exclaimed, “Ugh! I know, right? Tell me about it!”

ThePseudonym stifled a chuckle.  “Huh, I guess I never thought of it like that. Anyway, it sounds like the crowd has moved on, so it should be safe for me to get out of here. Thanks for not killing me!”

Elisa waved goodbye, while Nella continued to stare with rapt attention at the iPad. Lindsay stared daggers at ThePseudonym. “Just get the Hell out of here. You’ve done enough damage for one day, don’t you think?” she said icily.  Ashamed, ThePseudonym turned and exited the stairwell.

“Oh, man! That was so crazy!” a voice in ThePseudonym’s ear blurted excitedly, “I can’t believe you ran into Team Nostalgia Chick and nearly caused a global catastrophe!”

ThePseudonym was astonished. Apparently he had never ended the call he placed to Drakaunus back in the Minecraft panel. “Drakaunus? Have you been hearing everything this whole time?”

“Of course I have, pal! You didn’t think I was gonna abandon you in your time of need, did you?”

“I guess not. But why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I did! But I guess you were too busy running scared to hear me over the crowd.”

“Well, whatever. What the Hell am I gonna do now? I have to get out of here and back to the room so I can switch my pants!”

“Right, good idea. Which room are you in again?”

“421, but what’s it matter to you?”

“Oh, it doesn’t. I was just curious. So where are you now?”

“I’m in the halls by the main ballroom, trying not to be noticed. It probably doesn’t help that I’m talking to you, though.”

“Got it. You go radio silent, I’ll just spectate and provide color commentary.”

With that, ThePseudonym returned his attention to his surroundings. He would have to cross the length of the main hallway to reach the lobby elevators, but thankfully he didn’t see any sign of Ashley-Starscream or the crazed Minecraft fans. He walked through the crowd as briskly as he could without attracting undue attention. As he walked, he noticed that many of the attendees were checking their smartphones, calling others over to see what they had found.  Several of them, after checking their devices, looked up and stared at him. He was nearly to the other side when cries of “PaaAAAAAAANTS!” began to echo through the throng. Suddenly, the shifting mass of attendees began to converge upon him from ahead and behind. “Damn,” he cursed, “I’m surrounded! I was SO CLOSE! How did this happen, Drakaunus?”

“Oh, that was my doing,” Drakaunus replied, his grin so wide it was audible, “It sounded like things were getting boring over there, so I told Twitter where you were and where you were going.”

Breaking into a run, ThePseudonym took off down a small side hallway. He shouted into his earpiece, ”Are you CRAZY?! Why would you DO that?!”

“Well, since I can’t be there to have crazy adventures with you, I figured the next best thing would be for me to make sure your adventures get as crazy as possible. And from the sound of it, things are about to get pretty crazy!”

The hallway terminated in a dead end. With only one path available to him, and a crowd of crazed convention attendees at his heels, ThePseudonym wrenched open the only nearby door and threw himself inside. He rapidly slammed and locked the door behind him, then slumped against the wall. Once he caught his breath, he spoke into his earpiece, “Crazy is NOT the same thing as fun! If I get out of this, I SWEAR, I’m going to …”

Before ThePseudonym could finish his thought, he heard a blood-curdling scream and was violently tackled to the ground. His head struck the carpet with a thud, and everything began to feel very small.  The next thing he knew, he was being rolled onto his stomach, and someone was standing over him. He heard a ripping sound, and felt a small set of hands grabbing his trousers. When his faculties returned, he rolled over to see Ashley standing victoriously over him, holding her knife in one hand and a flash drive attached to a scrap of blue fabric in the other. The crowd of attendees in the ballroom, whom ThePseudonym had been oblivious to until now, began chanting, “PANTS! PANTS! PANTS! PANTS! PANTS!”  She reached down to pat him on the head, and said, “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Ya big baby.”

Helplessly, ThePseudonym watched as Ashley strode up to the stage, where The Angry Video Game Nerd had been hosting his Q&A panel. “What the ass is all this about?” The Nerd asked bemusedly as Ashley joined him onstage.

“Mr. Rolfe,” she began, “This is the only copy of _Chain World_ , the rarest game in the world. Since you play so many terrible games just to amuse us, I think you deserve to have it.” She pressed the flash drive into his palm and closed his fingers around it, then turned to the crowd, “and I’d like to thank all of you for helping me get it back!”

Thunderous applause erupted from the crowd. Attendees began leaping to their feet, and soon Ashley had won herself a standing ovation.  She made her best attempt to bow in her Starscream costume, but could only manage a slight forward tilt.

As the applause died down, ThePseudonym picked himself up and began heading toward the door. A member of the crowd approached the microphone and directed his question to Ashley, “So now that The Nerd has Chain World, I guess we don’t need to keep chasing that guy’s pants?”   

Ashley smiled and responded, “Pretty much. I appreciate all your help, guys, but I don’t need the pants anymore.”

“But we were having fun!” one audience member blurted out. From the other side of the ballroom, another answered back, “Yeah! I didn’t even care about the game. It was the chase that was the fun part!”

Suspecting foul play, ThePseudonym whispered into his earpiece. “If you put them up to this, my revenge against you is going to be slow and terrible.”

“Whoa! Easy there, tiger,” Drakaunus replied, “This is bigger than you or me now. I think you’ve started a meme, here.  Better watch out, though, I think they’re getting ready to chase you again.”  

As if on command, members of the audience began to turn to face ThePseudonym. The now-familiar roar of “PaaAAAAAAANTS!” began building again, and he ran for the exit.

As he bulleted through the hotel hallway, ThePsuedonym began to notice a change in the crowd at his heels. They no longer seemed like an angry mob, instead they’d taken on the manic energy of a crowd of screaming fans. It also seemed that they weren’t pushing as hard, as if they did, indeed, want to draw out the chase for as long as possible. All the same, he was not about to let them catch him and consign his pants to a terrible fate. Before long he found himself at the entrance to the parking garage.  He groped his pocket, searching for the key to his car, hoping that he could hide out there until they lost interest and gave up.  “Damn!” he cursed, “My keys must still be with my wallet!”  The crowd was on him now, though, so he continued into the garage, hoping to come up with a new plan on the fly.

Luckily for ThePseudonym, a new plan presented itself almost immediately. As he was rounding the corner toward the loading area, he spied a group of musicians and roadies moving equipment out of a large camper van with _The Protomen_ airbrushed on the side. They all sported retro-futuristic/neo-dystopian attire, and one of them wore an unmistakably unique red-and-white motorcycle helmet.  “Guys, HELP! it’s me, ThePseudonym!” he called out to them as he barrelled toward the van.

The band looked up, then put down their equipment. “Hey, what’s going on, man?” the leader asked, “Glad to see you made it! We haven’t seen you since PAX East.  You all right?”

Still running full-tilt, ThePseudonym barely managed to avoid colliding with any of the band members. He crashed into a stack of Marshall amps and very nearly knocked them to the ground. “I’m in trouble, Panther,” he said, “all those people out there want to steal my pants! You’ve gotta hide me!”

“Now this is a story I _have_ to hear!” Panther chuckled as he threw open the door to the van. “Get inside. We’ll take care of the crowd.” He gestured to the rest of the band and crew, who quickly took positions around the van. When the mob rounded the corner and saw them, ThePseudonym was nowhere to be seen. Most of them broke off and headed back to the hotel, but a few took this opportunity to request autographs from The Protomen. A few dozen signatures and photos later, the parking garage was empty once more.  

ThePseudonym peeked up over the seats and peered out the window, finally emerging when the coast was clear. “Man, that was close!” he sighed, still short of breath, “I can’t thank you guys enough for helping me out like that.”

“You can pay us back by telling us what happened,” Panther replied, taking a seat on top of a speaker, “How did you end up with dozens of nerds screaming for your pants?”

ThePseudonym smiled, cleared his throat, and began to tell the story...

*******

Several hours later, ThePseudonym leaned against a scaffold on the side of the main ballroom stage. The Protomen had enjoyed his story so much that they had invited him to sit in the wings at their performance, and they were getting ready to open their set. He could not have asked for a better seat, and was ready to enjoy the concert, when he received a phone call from Drakaunus. “You can’t let it end like that, man,” his friend insisted, “It’s so anti-climactic.  You’ve got to give the people what they want!”

ThePseudonym glowered at his phone so hard that he was sure Drakaunus could feel it in New Jersey. “Please, I’ve had enough madness for one day. I just want to enjoy this concert, then go back and change into my normal clothes and put this whole thing behind me.”

“I’m telling you, you’re making a big mistake,” Drakaunus reiterated, “You’ll never get another chance like this again. You’re a hero to these people, man! So stop thinking about yourself and make this the best part of _their_ MAGFest experience!”

Something in Drakaunus’s words stirred ThePseudonym, and he decided that he would make one last grand gesture to give crowd what they wanted. After the opening song had concluded, he waved his arms furiously to attract Panther’s attention.

Panther could tell immediately what ThePseudonym was up to, and convinced the band to stop before they counted off again.  “Before we play our next song, I want to bring out a good friend of ours. He’s made a really big impression on all of you, I think, and this is his chance to take a bow.  Come on out, ThePseudonym!”

The crowd roared with excitement as ThePseudonym jogged out to join The Protomen on stage. He bowed once by himself, then once with the band. Then, as cries of “PaaAAAAAAANTS!” swelled in the crowd, he took a running jump and dove into the waiting arms of the fans. They buckled at first, and for a moment ThePseudonym feared that his mad act would get innocent people hurt, but the rest of the crowd surged to support him and soon he was surfing back toward the exit.

Suddenly he felt as though he was being tugged from every possible direction, and with a deafening RRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP his pants were torn to shreds by dozens of screaming fans. ThePseudonym would have been mortified if only he could stop laughing. Finally, without a shred of either dignity or trouser, ThePseudonym was gently placed on the ground at the back of the ballroom.  He stood up, and found himself face to face with the uncooperative utilikilt vendor from the dealer’s room. The man handed him a brand new black Utilikilt, with a note attached that read, “We’re sorry for making your life so crazy - Ashley and Drakaunus.”  

ThePseudonym smiled and put on his new gift, then lost himself in the mad energy of the crowd. He knew he would miss his pants, and he wasn’t sure that everything he went through was worth it in the end, but he did know that this had been one Hell of a MAGFest adventure. 


End file.
